He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. "Egad!" exclaimed Wood, "you've hit the right nail on the head, anyhow. "Off with it to the health of King James the Third, and confusion to his enemies!" "Hold!" interposed Wood; "that is treason. "You've been quizzing my friend Kent, I perceive, in your Burlington Gate. "Buck up! While there's life there's hope. Any natural fineness would be numbed by drink. He could neither stifle nor deaden that. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat.
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